Survival Guide
by Vaneria Potter
Summary: A rewrite of one of my earlier stories that was taken down because someone thought it was a list. How to survive MarySues. Do not eat or drink while reading! Your keyboard and monitor will not thank you for having things spilled on it.
1. Introduction

_Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings._

_Summary: An idea I got from one of Aranna Undomiel's reviews from my story 'Children Grown. I thought it a splendid opportunity to bag out Mary-Sues._

_A/N – I don't think this has been done before so I apologize in advance if anything in this work of fiction has shown up anywhere else without my knowledge. If it has, I promise it was not intentional._

_This chapter is dedicated to **Aranna Undomiel** and **Laer4572.**_

_**Laer4572 **for her assistance when I was stuck with writer's block and **Aranna Undomiel** for inspiring me to begin this fic in the first place._

_A/N#2 – Someone complained to that the first edition of this fic was in fact a list. Looking over it, I can see that the list of behavioral patterns may have given this mistaken impression. Therefore, behold the revised edition, which will hopefully correct any mistakes from before._

_A/N#3 – Could I beg people to review again? The reviews that I got before have been deleted with the first edition of this fic.

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**Being a Mary-Sue: The Complete Guide To And Study Of. **

Introduction

There are many terrible things in this world. Poverty, famine and George Bush are some of the more serious examples. However, the greatest and most terrible is the Mary-Sue.

It is unsure as to how this creature evolved or came into being, but a widely held theory is that they are created by obsessive fans of books/movies/cartoons/etc. who write dream scenarios and create the perfect extra character. Beautiful, clever, the epitome of womanhood, this being is added to the plotline of the original book/movie/cartoon/etc., often entering into a romantic relationship with one of the main characters.

There are two main types of Mary-Sue: The 'Docile' Mary-Sue (_perfectus minimus)_ and the 'Independent' Mary-Sue (_perfectus dominus)_. Whilst hybrids can sometimes occur, the 'Docile' and the 'Independent' can be identified with the following characteristics.

Docile:

This breed of Mary-Sue is more inclined to stay at home and care for the household than actively seek adventure. She is commonly of high social status in her community, although she has sometimes been known to be of the merchant class or high in the working class. Her preferred method of attack is subtlety, lying in wait for her prey or setting up a situation that her target will come out the worst in, leaving her to act as a comforting shoulder.

Independent:

Unlike her 'Docile' counterpart, this breed of Mary-Sue will often seek out battle and adventure, resenting the idea of staying at home and caring for the house or waiting to be rescued by the hero/prince/her true love. She can be of any social standing, though it has been observed that she often appears as a princess or noblewoman, chafing at the restrictions placed upon her by her family, or an orphan of low status who enters the life of her target seemingly by accident. Also unlike the 'Docile' Mary-Sue, her methods of attack are more direct and usually involve physical combat, whether against her target in order to catch the target's attention or fighting an enemy, sometimes of her own devising, which no other can defeat.

NOTE: For the purposes of the assignment, this study will focus on a single fandom: 'The Lord of the Rings', written by Professor JRR Tolkien.

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_A/N – This is a re-write of my first 'Mary-Sue list', which was taken down because someone mis-took it for a list._

_I hope this one does better and can I shamelessly beg for reviews?_

**_Sob, grovel_**

_Thanks,_

_Nathalia._


	2. Temprement

_Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings._

_Summary: See previous chapters_.

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**Mary-Sue: The Complete Guide To and Study Of ****Temperament **

The _Docile_ Mary-Sue is gentle and loving, placing others before herself. This usually leads to her becoming greatly loved by anything she comes into contact with, sometimes including Wargs and Orcs. Usually Submissive, the _Docile_ Mary-Sue will nonetheless react passionately in extreme situations, whether by making her opinions verbally (and forcefully) known, or physically responding to a threat until someone (Usually of the main cast of Lord of the Rings) comes charging in to rescue her.

By direct contrast, the _Independent_ Mary-Sue is outspoken and strong of will. Unlike her submissive opposite, this breed of Mary-Sue will not wait for an extreme situation to present itself before telling her opinion, often in a less than subtle manner. The _Independent_ Mary-Sue will infallibly resist when told that she must or must not do something on the grounds of it being (in) appropriate or for the sake of appearances. For this reason, she is likely to do the direct opposite of what she is told in order to prove the speaker wrong.

NOTE: It has been observed that people with experience in reverse physiology i.e. people with children, have had the largest percentage of success when dealing with _Independent _Mary-Sues.

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**Case Study 1 – **Docile

At the sound of the door opening, the beautiful young woman looked up from where she was playing with a young child, one of the orphans of Helm's Deep. He husband stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. The young woman, Ciara, stood as he approached, knowing that something was wrong.

"What is it, love? I know something troubles you."

Her husband sighed, meeting her eyes. "The beacons are lit. We ride to the aid of Gondor. If rumors are true, I do not know if we will return."

Ciara looked at the floor, closing her eyes. "You will return. Even if I cannot see the future, there must be some hope for me to cling to."

Her husband gave her a faint smile, and then became serious again. "I want you to stay in the hall, no matter what." Ciara opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off. "I will have your agreement in this, Ciara."

The young woman closed her mouth with a snap, less than pleased with the situation. However, he was her husband, and she must obey him. That did not mean she had to be happy about it. "As my husband commands, so will I obey."

She spun on her heel and slammed the door, for the first time wishing that she had the strength to be a shield maiden and ride to war.

As it turned out, Ciara had no need to ride to war, as war seemed to have no objections about coming to her.

She had been in the kitchens, helping to prepare lunch, when a young page had come running in, screaming about orcs marching on Edoras. This had caused an uproar; none of the warriors had yet returned, leaving the city undefended! What were they to do?

Ciara did not stop to think, she simply ran to where the children were being housed, intent on her destination. She might not live to see the next sunrise, but she would do her best to make sure that the younger generation did!

She arrived not a moment too soon. In the time that it had taken her to get to the room where the children had been staying, Sauron's creatures had breeched the hall and were now trying to beat the door down. Ciara placed herself squarely in front of the frightened children as the door began to splinter, gripping a heavy candle stand of wrought iron.

The door finally shattered under the attack, and orcs poured into the room.

This was perhaps not the best of ideas, as desperate people often prove to be the most dangerous.

This, indeed, was the case with Ciara, as the first orc in discovered a new meaning of 'flight'. By the time the rest of the party fully registered the damage Ciara was inflicting, the scared kitten in front of them had transformed into a ferocious tigress defending her cubs.

Despite the brave front, however, Ciara was quickly tiring. She wavered as an orc got past her defense and knocked the candle-stand out of her grasp, barely dodging an orc swing. She closed her eyes briefly as more crashing and yelling came from outside, but opened them again, determined that if she were to die, it would be defending others.

Alas, this did not come to pass, for it was at that moment that her husband and several others of the Rohirrim burst into the room, decimating the enemy as they came. Ciara looked up at her husband's strong figure, his sword dripping with black orc blood, and, worn out by recent events, gracefully collapsed onto the floor.

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**Case Study 2** – Independent

Sorcha had no memory of her origins. No knowledge of family, birthplace, or even last name. All that was unknown, and Sorcha had found no one who could tell her.

What was known by all, on the other hand, was that Sorcha, Ward of Theoden-King and best friend of Princess Eowyn, was strong, independent, and not to be trifled with.

Like her friend, Sorcha was a shield maiden and, also like Eowyn, disliked nothing more than being shut away for the simple fact that "Women do not belong in war", a statement that never failed to annoy her. Luckily for all concerned, this statement was not generally used while Sorcha was within hearing range, for her temper and strength in arms had the potential to become the stuff of legend.

So it came about that Eomer of Rohan, Sister-son of Theoden and brother of Eowyn, found himself facing the unpleasant task of informing his sister's notoriously bad-tempered friend that she was not to ride with them to Minas Tirith, but was to stay at Edoras with the women and children.

Absently, he wondered what he had done lately to warrant being landed with this task. Nothing came to mind, so he supposed that someone had simply chosen a name at random and let that person be stuck telling Sorcha what to do.

Predictably, Sorcha did not respond well, telling him in no uncertain terms exactly what she thought of the idea and of him for suggesting it. Not for the first time, Eomer found himself wishing that his sister's other, far more placid, friend Rina was here to calm things down.

Trying to reason with the irate Shieldmaiden failed, as did outright ordering her to obey. Eomer wracked his brain, then remembered something that he and Rina had laughed over once. Rina often worked as a nanny or Governess and had explained reverse physiology, or making people do things by telling them to do the opposite of the desired result.

He would need to thank her later. Sorcha was in a contrary mood, and Eomer's bet that she was not up to such a 'womanly' task had struck her pride enough that she had decided to stay behind, just to prove him wrong.

Though Sorcha was far from stupid, it still took her two days to figure out that she had been tricked into staying behind, by which time the Rohirrim had already left, leaving her with no chance to catch up with them.

To make matters worse, Eowyn had managed to sneak off and disguise herself as a Rider, battling the Witch-King of the Nazgul. This meant that Sorcha's only available course of action was to glare at Rina for teaching Eomer how to play on contrariness in the first place.

Rina let the Glares wash over her the wind over the grass plains, annoying Sorcha more than ever. She couldn't wait for the Rohirrim to return. She wanted a nice, long word with both her friend and her friend's brother.

However, she was never to get this chance. Before the Rohirrim could return, Edoras came under siege by Sauron's remaining forces. Heedless of any warnings, Sorcha met the orc charge head on; delaying them long enough that those inside the Hall could hold them off until the Riders returned to finish them off.

And so, Sorcha got her wish, to obtain glory in battle, though she would not be around to receive honor for her deeds.

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From these sources, it is to be concluded that while the two breeds of Mary-Sue are quite different, both will fight when necessary. Suggested methods for dealing with them are as follows; having a superior order them to do or not to do something (Docile) or explaining that the desired result is not possible or not appropriate. (Independent)

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_A/N – Well, I couldn't put this up in the original version, so it is bring broken down into more detailed segments. Hope you enjoy. Next part should be up soon._

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed._

_Nathalia_


	3. Physical Appearence

_Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings:_

_Summary: See previous Chapters

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**Mary-Sue: The Complete Guide To and Study Of – Part Two** Physical Appearance

Despite differences in personality, both the _Docile _and the _Independent_ Mary-Sues share many of the same physical traits.

A Mary-Sue's physical appearance is often as a 'Classic' beauty, although she may also appear to be a 'Tall, dark vision of loveliness' or, on occasion, appear as neither of these, in which case, one must rely on the knowledge of other traits in order to recognize the Mary-Sue for the horror that she truly is.

Examples of the main types of physical appearances are shown in the Case Studies below.

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**Example – 'Classically Beautiful'**

The physical appearance of a 'Classically Beautiful' Mary-Sue includes light-colored hair, eyes of pale to middle blue, fair skin and a willowy figure.

The hair is most often described as 'Blond as a wheat-field' or 'like the palest Gold', although it can be as dark as to be described as 'The color of Honey' or 'Like sun-ripened apricots'.

The eyes are blue, ranging in color shades from 'Like chips of blue ice' to 'Blue Topaz' to "A cloudless summer sky'. While darker shades of blue are more often attributed to the 'Tall, Dark and Lovely' Mary-Sue, the 'Classically Beautiful' Mary-Sue can have eyes as dark as 'deepest lavender'.

The skin is fair, usually described as 'skin like moon glow' or 'a porcelain complexion' or 'skin as white as snow'. On very rare occasions, and only in cases when the Mary-Sue has taken the form of a Hobbit-lass or Edain woman, the skin will be marred by a light scattering of freckles, providing a 'fetching appearance' or an 'intriguing' birthmark, usually in the form of something that will prove to either be symbolic or mark her as part of a prophecy/ legend.

Her stature is usually 'fine-boned' or delicate, giving her a 'willowy' appearance. Although the 'Classically Beautiful' Mary-Sue tends to be either average or small in height, there will be the occasion when she is tall, most often when the Mary-Sue has taken the form of an elf or (if they are feeling especially presumptuous) a 'daughter of Varda & Manwe/ Yavanna & Aule.

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Case Study 3 – Classically Beautiful**

Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood and representing the Firstborn in the Fellowship of the Ring, had prided himself on never being at a loss for words.

This was no longer true, as, for the first time in his many centuries of existence, he found himself speechless at the beauty of the fair elf-maid who had stepped out of the trees.

Her hair was as the light of Anor, her skin like fresh buttermilk. Tall and stately as a beech tree, she kept her head modestly lowered. Legolas placed the tips of his fingers beneath her chin, lifting her head until a pair of eyes like the summer sky were raised to meet his sapphire ones.

Suddenly, Legolas found it hard to breath, and if anyone had asked, he doubted he would be able to tell them his own name. The quest to destroy the One Ring, his duty to Middle-Earth, even his constant verbal war play with Gimli, seemed to fade into the background as the beauty of this strange maiden drew him in.

He **censored** as the maiden beckoned to him. Her **censored** as they **censored**….

NOTE: At this point, the student authoring this document was forced to return the manuscript to the library and schedule an appointment with her mental therapist.

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**Example – 'Tall, Dark and Lovely'**

In this example, the Mary-Sue will have dark hair, blue/brown/black eyes and skin tone ranging from the pale shades found on the 'Classically Beautiful' specimen to skin colours found anywhere from near the Mediterranean/ Caribbean sea to Western Asia to areas in and around the Pacific Ocean to South-Eastern Asia.

The eyes will usually be dark shades of blue, most often 'Like blue Lapis-Lazuli' or 'Dark as the Midnight sky, as though all the starry heavens were contained within", but can range to 'chocolate/ honey-colored' to 'Onyx' to 'Coal-black'.

The hair will also be dark. The more common descriptions for a 'Tall, Dark and Lovely' Mary-Sue include the following: 'Like an obsidian waterfall', 'falling in a cascade of ebony silk', 'black as night', 'as dark as a raven's wing' and 'Like the wood of a Blackthorn tree'.

As the classification implies, the 'Tall, Dark and Lovely' Mary-Sue will be tall and mysterious, as distant and unreachable as the stars.

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Case Study 4**

Boromir closed his eyes with a sigh, leaning his head against the wall of the tavern. He could never understand why Denethor could never give his little brother any praise for his achievements. Worse still, he, Boromir, was being sent to Rivendell come daybreak. Faramir should have been the one to go; Boromir had no gift for interaction with other races.

Suddenly he stiffened, feeling someone watching him. His eyes snapped open as his watcher seemed to materialize out of the shadows.

It was a woman, if such a vision could be called that, watching him with a steady gaze.

Her hair was an obsidian waterfall, flowing down her back nearly to her feet. Her large, almond-shaped eyes were like onyx stones, her skin a tone that he had never seen before. It was a few shades darker than the fair coloring of the Western kingdoms, and held a faint olive tint.

He noticed that she was also taller than the average woman, the top of her head level with his eyes. Starting out of his trance, the son of the Steward realized that the woman was speaking to him.

Her voice was soft and melodic as she smiled at him. "You think deep thoughts, Lord of Gondor. Will you not share the burden?"

Boromir's green eyes searched her face for any hint of deception. "I do not think anyone can help with these thoughts. They would flatten you faster than an Oliphant."

The woman met his eyes with her fathomless blue ones. "Try me. You may be surprised."

What harm could it do? Boromir began to tell her his worries; the words spilling forth like a stream over rocks. The woman only listened, her mysterious yet serene manner oddly comforting.

When he finished, she laid an arm over his shoulders, and there they stayed until dawn.

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Example – 'Original Combination'**

In this example, the physical appearance of the Mary-Sue has no set combination. Unlike the other examples, she cannot be described as 'blonde, blue eyed and slender' or as 'tall and mysterious, with dark hair and darker eyes'.

Fortunately, while this Mary-Sue can be best described as a 'mix-and-match', there are still descriptions of the coloring and stature that can alert one to the true nature of the young beauty who is trying to convince you that eloping on the spur of the moment is the best idea you have ever had.

The hair is often described as 'like leaping flames' or 'the color of rich, fertile earth' or variations on the aforementioned two descriptions.

Eyes can be described as anything from 'eyes like cinnamon' to 'like the sea after a storm' to 'a rainforest canopy, lush green flecked with gold' to 'blue-gray/green, as fathomless as an ocean' to 'like glowing emeralds' to 'orbs of pale jade'.

Height and frame also varies. The 'Original Combination' a.k.a 'Mix-and-Match' Mary-Sue can be 'gangly yet graceful' or 'small and well rounded' or 'of average build'.

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Case Study 5 **

_'She is so ordinary' _was the first thought that crossed Frodo's mind as he looked at the young hobbit-lass.

Indeed, the description fitted her. She was of medium build, for a hobbit, with eyes as brown as the gingerbread that Mrs. Gamgee baked and curly brown hair.

He didn't know what drew him to her. Perhaps it was the light in her eyes, a light that also shone in his own blue orbs, the light of having seen and endured what no person should have to. Perhaps it was how normal she appeared, a near-forgotten reminder of how he had once been. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him; not awed or fearful at what he had done or how he was described as being as 'Cracked' as his Uncle Bilbo.

Whatever it was, Frodo liked it. He wondered if she was attached. If she was not, perhaps he had a reason to stay in Middle Earth.

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NOTE: The student author's library card has been put on hold due to insistence by her therapist. For this reason, it may be a while before the student has access to the records necessary for the continuation of this document.

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A/N – So, how was it? The note immediately above can also be translated to mean that my computer got cut off from the internet and that I am going away on the 4th of January to spend a week in Tasmania. 


	4. Classifications Part A

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings. Live with it.

Summary: See previous chapters.

A/N - I just found out that I am on four C2 lists! Four! I am overwhelmed!

Anyway, now that that's done, on with the story!

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Mary-Sues: A complete guide to and study of.**

Part Four: Categorized Personalities.

Once separated into Dominant and Submissive classifications, Mary-Sues can then be divided into several sub-categories, mentioned below. While no specific examples could be found, the descriptions of each sub-category are hoped to be of help in identifying these terrible creatures.

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Angst-Woe-Is-Me-Wah-Wah Mary-Sue_

This category of Mary-Sue can appear in any form, but is easily recognised by her tragic past that she will either speak of at great length at every possible opportunity, or avoid the topic at all costs to create a 'Dark and Mysterious Background.'

The aforementioned 'Tragic Past' may include anything from an attack and resulting trauma from which she has never recovered, to an abusive/ uncaring family that treated her as a slave, to several near-death experiences, to losing her family at a young age and having no one else to turn to.

Although, like most Mary-Sues, she will appear as young and beautiful, this category of Mary-Sue will occasionally break with tradition and have her otherwise flawless skin marred with a strangely shaped scar, in order to draw interest.

In most cases, she will prompt someone to inquire where and how the scar was gained, regardless of the rude nature of such a query. After being asked, the Mary-Sue will most often go into great detail on the subject, often more than once, emphasising the pain and trauma of the situation in order to gain sympathy from her target.

In a lesser amount of, but still frequent, cases, she will encourage the natural curiosity of others to inquire about the scar, then flinching away from the topic in such a way as to intrigue the characters (her target in particular) and influence them to continue asking. After a suitably long amount of time, she will wait until her target next asks, then dramatically break down in their arms, revealing her story in a halting manner, with strategically placed sobs and slight pauses and stammering, in order to create the impression that she has never recovered from what had happened and that while it had been tearing her up inside, she had been to fearful to have spoken of it.

Once she has gained their sympathy, the Mary-Sue will pretend to need comfort and constant attention to recover. If the Mary-Sue can keep such a ruse up for long enough, she will eventually bring her target closer to her, finally making them fall in love and propose a relationship in order to sooth and overcome her past by creating a new future of love.

While this would make the character that they have targeted sound thicker than a granite boulder if they actually bought this act, it is an effective reminder that One should never under-estimate the awesome power of Mary-Sues.

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Sibling Mary-Sue_

This category of Mary-Sue mostly appears as a sister (or, in the masculine case of a Marty Stu, brother) to one of the main characters, although she may sometimes be related to a lesser character, in order that one of the main characters may fall for her without the relationship being labelled as incestuous.

She can be easily identified by anyone who has passing familiarity with Canon and knows that (Author) has made no mention of her chosen family having an extra son/daughter/sibling.

Concerning age in relation to her supposed sibling, the Mary-Sue is often portrayed as the younger of the two. This is because the main characters are often portrayed as adults, and the concept of growing old is one of the few things capable of striking fear into the heart of a Mary-Sue.

A secondary reason for being younger that the character is to introduce themes of Protective-Older-Brother and/or How-Dare-You-Even-Look-At-My-Little-Sister! in order to attempt comedy in the form of outraged siblings trying to scare off suitors and/or to emphasise the Mary-Sue's alleged strength of will in defying her family and choosing to forsake everything for the love that she and her target share.

If, however, the character she is related to is a child or very young adolescent, she has been known to find some way of she and the character becoming suddenly orphaned so that she may assume the role of a strong sister/maternal figure who will calmly guide the character on their path to greatness, whilst quietly (and constantly) bemoaning how terrible it is that she has none to guide her and how she fears to make a mistake.

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Dimension-Crossing Mary-Sue._

While the reason for her gift of crossing between dimensions has not yet passed beyond the realms of theory, a general assumption is that she attempts to add drama by suddenly appearing out of (literally) thin air.

Whatever the reason, this category of Mary-Sue is usually identified by several abnormal characteristics, some subtle, some not. Examples of these are:

1) Hair: While Mary-Sues as a whole can usually be identified by her un-naturally perfect hair, eyes, looks etc., the hair of a Dimension-Crossing Mary-Sue will sometimes be spiked or done up in a very strange style, and occasionally dyed in strange, overly-bright colours.

2) Clothing: While most Mary-Sues will be dressed immaculately in whatever style they prefer, (Elven, Hobbit, etc.) the Dimension-Crossing Mary-Sue stands out vividly with her unusual (and often immodest) attire. Examples include: Skirts that barely reach mid-thigh, shirts with strange and sometimes rude phrases, breeches and leggings made of strange material, and _very_ odd outfits that reveal more than they conceal.

3) Manner: While the majority of Arda's population, and Mary-Sues in particular, are often formal and relatively polite and well-spoken to others, the Dimension-Crossing Mary-Sue can easily be identified as such by her distinct lack of courtesy and respect, as well as knowledge thereof, her wide (and frequently used) vocabulary of foul language and strange way of acting and speech.

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Perfect-Life-I-Don't-Want-To-Be-Here Mary-Sue_

Occasionally confused with the Dimension-Crossing Mary-Sue, this classification of Mary-Sue comes from a loving, prosperous background and has never wanted or even considered going on an adventure of any sort, much less a Quest that she is unlikely to survive.

Despite the fact that she has never had want or cause to learn how to bear arms, this Mary-Sue will somehow be proficient in all manner of weaponry, often to the extent of out-doing those who have had decades more experience in the craft.

Whether she has volunteered herself to save someone, or has simply been caught up in events, this Mary-Sue will continuously complain about how she never wanted to be part of the Company, how she misses her home, how she hates living outdoors and how she is never going on another adventure for the rest of her life.

Why her companions have not gagged the Mary-Sue or at least told her to shut up by the end of the second day is anyone's guess, and until rational explanation is found, must regretfully be attributed to the Mary-Sues powers of improbability.

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Evil-Then-Suddenly-Redeemed-Through-Love Mary-Sue_

One of the most ludicrous category of Mary-Sue yet, this classification of Mary-Sue will have been raised by evil and often descended from Dark Lords/Ladies. As a vast majority, the Mary-Sue will be as evil as her parent/foster parent, however, on rare occasions, she has been known to have not wanted to be evil and only acted as such to protect herself.

Upon meeting her Lust-object, the Mary-Sue will suddenly regret her past ways and wish to redeem herself

In times of Darkness, any sensible person would kill or stay far away from anything connected with the current Dark Lord/Lady. However, the Mary-Sue somehow gains the sympathy and freely-given assistence of her Lust-object, despite their knowledge of her past.

A second, but less acknowledged, theory is that the Mary-Sue is in fact infatuated with a different character, but pretends to be in love with a different one in order to destroy their charecterization and reduce both to blithering idiots in order to make the Quest that they are on fail.

Whilst it is acknowledged as a universal truth that Love and Lust are Irrational in the first place, this provides a further example of the unfathomable powers of the Mary-Sue.

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In the next chapter, the writer will explore a Mary-Sue's methods of operation and hunt down further case studies.

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_A/N - So, what do people think? Sorry no case studies on this one but there will be more in the next chapter._

_Like it? Hate it? Don't give a Damn? Tell me in a review._

_Thanks, Nathalia._


	5. Classifications Part B

_Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

_WARNING: There will be some mild swearing in this chapter. If this offends you then please ignore or don't read it._

_I wanted to have this up yesterday, but my boss called because she had managed to lock her keys inside the centre and needed me to let her back in. By the time I finally got home, I had run out of time to post._

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Classification Case Studies **

In the previous part of this document, we explored the basic explanations of the various categories of Mary-Sue. After much research and argumentation with her therapist, the author has managed to get a hold of several Case Studies related to each Classification.  
NOTE: To assuge concerns from readers of this document, the author would like to state that her therapist is very good, but hampered by the fact that the author does not listen to her advicefor discontinuation of the document.

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Case Study 6: Angst-Woe-Is-Me-Wah-Wah **_

The young girl's head snapped to the side from the force of the blow, dark hair swirling around her like a curtain of midnight silk. Keeping her head bowed, she peeked up through her long eyelashes, wincing at the sight of her enraged parent, who raised her hand for a second blow. The young girl, Mallika, winced as she braced herself for another beating, and hoped that it would not last too long…

_Years later…_

No one knew much about her, so they called her the 'Lady Of The Forest'. She was a mystery, with rumours buzzing around her like bees to a flower. The only things that people knew for a fact was that she had no family, a gift for healing, a nice singing voice, and possessed an incredible beauty marred only by a strangely shaped scar on her left cheek.

Time passed un-noticed, with only a few whispers of the great war going on far away, until one day a man came. An elf, actually, who would change her life forever.

He dressed in greens and browns, marking him as a wood elf. His grey eyes were solemn and fathomless, and he had a dwarf as a travelling companion. They had originally stopped in the village for a nights rest, but had heard the rumours of the Lady Of The Forest, and had visited for a sprained wrist.

The Lady Of The Forest tended the injury and offered her hospitality for the night. They accepted, introducing themselves as Legolas and Gimli, and sat down to a supper of stew and water, as the Lady Of The Forest refused to touch alcohol unless it was for medicinal purposes.

It was finally the dwarf who broke the question that both had obviously been dying to ask. "Why do you live alone, my lady? I would think that men would be hanging on the bell asking for your hand."

The Lady Of The Forest allowed a smile to touch her lips as she replied. "Well, I have no dowry and no family to speak for me, and my scar" she touched her cheek "tends to make people uncomfortable, for some reason."

The elf spoke up. "I do not mean to be impertinent, my lady, but how did you get the scar, and what is your name? I hope you will forgive me when I say that 'Lady Of The Forest' does sound like a strange thing to name a child."

This time, the Lady Of The Forest's smile was faintly bitter. "I am not offended. My name is Mallika, and as to the scar, it is a long story."

Legolas sat back with an apology on his lips, but before he could say anything, Mallika noticed and quickly added, but the night is young, so I have time to tell it."

Mallika leaned back in her chair, legs crossed prettily at the ankles as she let her mind drift to the past that she had tried so hard to bury.

"I was six when it all started. I was the first born and only girl child of Sanjen and Uuma Turner. Unfortunately, something went wrong when I was born, and none of my siblings lived to see their second life day. Eventually, my mother began to drink, trying to drown her sorrows at the lack of children with alcohol. The final straw was the sickness that wiped out half of our village, taking my father and most recent sibling with it.

After that, my mother looked to me as the source of all her problems. She began to beat me over the smallest things. The table was never clean enough, or the food was burned, or I had brought the firewood in too late. Eventually it all grew too much to bear and I ran away. I ran and ran and ran until I came here, where I built myself a new life. I have always had a gift for healing, and one can never have enough healers. But I was afraid of getting hurt again, so I kept away from the main village, telling no one my name or where I came from. I set myself up in the forest, settled into my new role, and never looked back. Until now."

Mallika finished her story and looked up at her audience of two. Gimli was silent as Legolas slid to the floor, kneeling in front of her. "I am so sorry for what you went through, Lady Mallika. Will you leave this place and come with us? I swear to you that I will never allow anyone to hurt you ever again."

Mallika felt herself drowning in Legolas's endless grey eyes. "Yes. I will follow wherever you may lead."

She quickly packed what belongings she had, setting them in a bag, which she placed near the door. Gimli rested in the spare room as Legolas and Mallika settled down in her bed. As she drifted into the land of dreams, Mallika thought of tomorrow, when she would start down a new road with this elf, leaving her old life behind her forever.

_**

* * *

Case Study7: Sibling **_

"But Father, Faramir should be the one to go to Rivendell! Boromir is needed here and you know that Faramir will serve Gondor best if he is the one to go!"

The tall, fair-skinned maiden pouted at Lord Denethor and gave petulant stamp of her foot, long reddish-blonde hair shining as she tried to argue with him.

Though all of Middle-Earth knew that Aralindë was bestowed with wisdom as great as the most famed lore masters, her father, Lord Steward Denethor of Gondor, remained adamant in his decision. He did, however, make one concession, allowing her to accompany her oldest brother to Rivendell.

* * *

When the two had arrived in the hidden valley, they discovered that a council had been called to discuss the fate of Middle-Earth. Something about halflings and a ring and Isildur's…Bane? Bone? Whichever. 

At the council, Aralindë tuned out whatever the Elf-Lord was saying, her eyes attached to an elf sitting a few seats down from her.

The elf was tall and fair, with silver-grey eyes and long blond hair. Recalling the introductions, Aralindë remembered that he had been called Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. The prince seemed to notice her scrutiny, and turned to look at her. She blushed vividly and turned her attention back to the council just in time to hear Lord Elrond say "…taken to Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came! One of you must do this."

There was a deadly silence. No body moved or spoke.

Growing tired of the quiet, Aralindë decided to break it. "Let's not all _rush_ to volunteer." she muttered under her breath, forgetting the keen hearing of the elves. The prince shot her a small, amused smile as her brother began to tell the council why it was a bad idea.

Eventually, the Council came to its conclusion; The ring would go to Mordor, carried by one of the Hobbits, and accompanied by a ranger, the Hobbit's three original companions, a dwarf, Mithrandir, Prince Legolas and her brother, Boromir.

* * *

Aralindë was walking through the gardens that night when she met the elf prince again. 

They introduced themselves again and continued on the path, passing Lord Elrond's daughter, Arwen, involved in a rather passionate embrace with the ranger from the council.

Of course, thoughts of Lady Arwen and the ranger were swept out of her mind when she found herself in much the same position later that night, only the elf in the pairing was Prince Legolas, and she was the mortal. It was a magical feeling, and they both remained oblivious to the outraged eyes that watched them from nearby.

* * *

Aralinde was just finishing preparing for the day when there was a knock on the door and her brother entered. 

She turned away from the dresser and raised an eyebrow at her brother, who was doing a very good impersonation of a thundercloud. "Is something wrong, Boromir? What has you so upset?"

Her brother's expression did not soften, as it so usually did when speaking to her. If anything, it only hardened. "The elf from the council that you are so enamoured with, that's what. You are proclaimed to be wise, Sister-mine, why would you be so foolish to fall for an elf?"

Aralindë sighed as she stood up. "We are all fools in love, Brother. Do not be so tiresome. Who I will love is my choice, not yours."

Boromir only stared at her for a moment, then exploded. "Have you lost your senses completely? You're a Human, he's a Wood elf! Such unions always end in disaster! I forbid you from continuing this foolish liaison, do you understand? Even if I did approve, we both know that Father would never agree! If you continue in this, he will be furious, and you will henceforth be a stranger to our family and people."

Aralindë threw down the brush that she was still holding, her eyes burning with an angry fire. "Then I will be a stranger! Neither you not Father will stop me from following my heart, and you are fools to try! If I choose to love Legolas then that is my affair, and I will defy all of you if I must. Now get out of my room!"

Boromir started forward, "Aralindë…"

She snatched up the hairbrush and threw it at him. "OUT!"

Boromir left, and Aralindë sank down onto her bed, letting out a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul.

* * *

Legolas walked down the halls of the Last Homely House, heading toward breakfast. His mind was still occupied with thoughts of a certain mortal Lady Aralindë, until said lady's older brother appeared, looking belligerent. 

The two males stood there for a long moment, each trying to stare each other down. Finally Boromir spoke. "What did you think you were doing to my sister last night? She is mortal, you are an elf. I will not see her heart broken because you have led her on, knowing that it can never be. Do not come near her again. If you do, I will make you regret the hour you first saw daylight."

Legolas did not look away. "That choice is hers to make. Unions between man and elf are not unheard of, and if Lady Aralindë should choose me, then I will love her for the rest of my life, even after she is but a distant memory in the records of history, she will remain alive in my heart."

With those words, Legolas swept past the arrogant human, quickly moving out of sight.

Watching him go, Boromir clenched his fists. _I am glad Aralindë does not accompany us on this quest, _he thought. _She will be in too much danger, and if I can get the ring, I can find her a suitable husband, and get rid of that elf!_

_**

* * *

Case Study 8: Dimension-Crossing **_

The Fellowship was camped at Hollin, and were just settling down to sleep when there was a shimmer in the air above them. Suddenly the skies cracked open, and a screaming body fell out of mid air, landing with a thump and spewing fountains of strange and obscure curse words.

When the body finally stood up, still swearing loudly, all that the Fellowship could do was stare.

The being was a human, the epitome of feminine beauty, but her manner of dress would have made any person with a sense of decency cringe.

Her hair was dyed a vivid blue, short and somehow moulded into spikes that stood up from the top of her head. A ring produced from her pouting lower lip and her face was heavily made up. Strangest of all, however, was her clothing. A skirt that barely reached mid-thigh, made from black leather, clung to her figure, while her top seemed little more that a piece of cloth wrapped around her torso and imprinted with some strange design.

Meanwhile, the girl had picked herself up and was making her way toward Gandalf, wearing a thunderous expression.

Questions began to pour from her mouth, laced with more foul language. "Who the fuck are you? How in the Hell did I get here? How do I get home? Who the fuck are they, and unless I'm speaking a different language, why the fuck is everyone staring at me? Hello? I'm not a statue on display here!"

By now, shock at the young woman's sudden appearance and attire had changed to shock at her rude manner. Just as Aragorn had gotten enough of a hold on his temper to reply, the girl suddenly spotted him, and her manner instantly changed from demanding abrasiveness to something more befitting of a tavern wench.

She slinked toward the king-in-exile, eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Well, as long as you're here, I suppose things wouldn't be too bad. My name is Leah, but you can call me Lee."

Aragorn tried to back away and gave serious thought to borrowing the One Ring to make himself invisible.

Luckily, Boromir spotted his plight, and smothered a loud snicker before quickly intervening. "I do not know who you are or where you come from, Young Lady, but in my country people show more courtesy when speaking to others. My name is Boromir, you are in the ruins of Hollin and none of us know how you came to be here. I do not know where your home is or how to get there, the others are my companions and no, we understand you perfectly, much as I wish otherwise, but do not answer because of surprise at your rudeness."

Acting as though Boromir's words were beneath her concern, the young woman simply waved them away and started walking, unfortunately in the right direction. "Well, since it seems that I will not be returning home any time soon, I'll just have to come with you."

The Fellowship looked at each other in horror. The girl come with them? She was hard enough to put up with as it was, never mind the additional burden and danger she would bring to the Quest!

Lee turned around to look back at them, beckoning impatiently. "Come on, will you? We don't have all day!"

Trying very hard to hold back several scathing remarks, the Fellowship continued, each of its members desperately plotting a way to get rid of this infuriating woman.

_**

* * *

Case Study 9: Perfect-Life-I-Don't-Want-To-Be-Here **_

Azizah Bandara loved everything about her life. She had long black hair, dark eyes, a willowy figure, and skin the colour of cocoa. She also had a impeccable academic record, filled with perfect marks and glowing teacher comments. Rounding off this perfect existence were her parents, who came from a rich and noble family and gave her anything she wanted, an active social life and a large group of friends, of whom she was the queen bee.

Of course, with such a wonderful life, one can imagine that she would be less than pleased to be torn away from it and dumped into a dangerous Quest in an entirely different world.

Azizah slept, and though her waking mind rarely remembered her dreams, she subconsciously knew that this was a good one. Suddenly, the dream shattered into a thousand tiny shards as she rolled over and a rock dug into her side.

She woke with a start and looked around, seeing trees all around her. Hearing birdsong and the sound of a river, Azizah sprang to her feet, eyes wide. This was most definitely _not_ her bedroom and four-poster bed!

Suddenly she heard voices, and turned around to see a group of people coming toward her. There were four of them, dressed in bright colours and wearing a style that she was sure came from the Georgian-Victorian era. At first, Azizah just stared, before taking a look at the dark-haired one with the blue eyes.

She could immediately tell that he was from the upper classes by the way he held himself and the way that one of his companions followed him like a personal servant would.

The group of four stopped instantly when they saw her, and Azizah could see the look of infatuation on the face of the one that she had just been admiring.

They introduced themselves, then held a whispered argument about something, and finally introduced themselves as Frodo (the one that she had quickly fallen in love with) Sam, Merry and Pippin (his three companions.) and asked her to accompany them.

Having nowhere else that she could really go, Azizah agreed, ignoring the bad feeling in her gut that said that this would turn into a journey that her perfect, pampered life would never had seen even in its worst nightmares.

Her gut had been right. It was absolutely pouring rain when they finally arrived at the nearest village, only to discover that it was like something out a medieval movie, with thatched cottages and muddy streets! The Inn (the Prancing Pony) that they stayed at was even worse! Loud, dark and crowded, it stank of beer and unwashed bodies. The food was stale and consisted of little more than bread and cheese and some unidentifiable stew.

Finally, Azizah gave into temptation and started wailing complaints under her breath. "What did I ever do to deserve being dumped here? I'm from a noble family, the very idea of running around like this is just unthinkable! It's dirty and it stinks and I haven't had a wash in days! I want to go home!"

Luckily for the rest of the world, Frodo chose this moment to accidentally slip on something and promptly vanish! In the confusion, Azizah saw Frodo reappear and be hauled up the stairs by a cloaked figure.

Frodo's companions promptly ran up the stairs after him, while Azizah returned to the rooms they had rented and went to sleep.

She woke up not long after, only to see a shadowy figure raise a sword over her head. Azizah shrieked and leapt up, grabbing the sword and wrestling it away from the stranger. Swinging the weapon over her head, she struck down her opponent with a single blow, then turned and defeated his companions in much the same manner.

In the morning, she woke to discover that she and the Hobbits (as Frodo and the others were called) would be travelling with the man who had hauled Frodo up the stairs last night. The logic of this escaped her, but she didn't bother asking.

After this, the days seemed to rush by in a blur.

**_

* * *

At the watchtower of Aman Sûl… _**

Azizah shrieked as the ring wraiths approached, then attacked them, holding them off until Aragorn arrived and set them on fire.

She glared at him, ignoring Frodo's injury. "Where were you? I was brought up a lady, not some common bar-brawler! And look at my dress, it's absolutely ruined!"

She grew even more indignant as Aragorn ignored her obvious distressful situation in favour of Frodo, but could do very little as they were all rushed off into the woodland.

_**

* * *

On the Pass of Caradhras… **_

Azizah muttered under her breath as they ploughed through the snow. She finally finds a gown that suited her figure, and now it was getting ruined by snow.

Not only that, but the temperature on this mountain was below freezing, and the silk that she wore was simply not the kind of thing you wore to keep warm. All of this just for some stupid little ring.

_**

* * *

In Moria… **_

Azizah didn't know how much more of this she could take. They were going through some old, abandoned mines, lit only by the light of the old man's staff. The air was dark and dank and entirely to quiet, but whenever she tried to make some noise to lighten the atmosphere, they all told her to be quiet!

Just when she was starting to hope that they would get out, they wound up in a stone room filled with rotting corpses! Azizah thought that things couldn't possibly get worse, only to be proved wrong when some huge monster barged in, swinging a club (how very crude!) and accompanied by lots of little monsters.

Azizah grabbed a sword from a nearby corpse and slew the monsters almost single-handedly, before leading the company out of that horrible mine.

_**

* * *

On the river… **_

Azizah sighed and leaned back in the boat. They had left the wood and were going down the river by boat. She was sad, in a way. She had liked Lothlorien a little, for all that they were forced to sleep on the ground or at the top of a tree. Now they were going down a not very calm river in boats that looked like they would collapse at any minute, and she had heard whispers in a conversation that they would be going into an impossible labyrinth of razor sharp rocks as soon as everyone was rested. For the umpteenth time, Azizah thought that she would rather die than remain here much longer, and voiced this thought in the softest of whispers.

She lay back, closing her eyes, and refusing to open them even when she heard the sound of fighting. A lady of breeding never got involved in such things, and men could work out their own problems.

However, the sound of fighting and voices yelling only got louder and she finally opened her eyes to inform them to either go away or keep it down.

It was then that she felt her vision start to go fuzzy, and the scene began to melt into the familiar surrounding of her bedroom. She didn't even care when Boromir glanced her way, his momentary distraction enabling one of the monsters to put an arrow in him.

_**

* * *

Case Study 10: Evil-Then-Suddenly-Redeemed-Through-Love **_

Ushali Melkoriel had been born and raised in Evil.

She was the Daughter, Heiress and only child of the Dark Lord Morgoth and the elf-princess Laurë. Unfortunately, her mother died in childbirth and her father was destroyed in the war against the other Valar when she was only a child.

However, her father's second-in-command, Lord Sauron, decided to bring her up to eventually become his dark queen.

Millennia passed as Ushali grew in both beauty and evilness, soon outstripping her Foster-Father for sheer darkness of spirit. Sauron's servants began to follow her, rather than Sauron, and she knew that it would not be long before she would surpass him in power and take over.

With Sauron as little more than an eyeball, Ushali would often lead the raiding parties who hunted for food and supplies and, most of all, for the highly prized black horses of the Riddermark.

It was on one such raid that her life was changed forever.

* * *

Ushali and her band of raiders had encountered a company of the Rohirrim and were engaged in heated battle, and had almost won when she saw a young rider who made her heart stand still. 

He was tall and fair, and his passion in fighting immediately made her wonder if he matched that passion in love.

She considered her options. On the one hand, Sauron had ordered that she take no prisoners. On the other hand, this rider awakened feelings in her that she never knew she had. Ushali quickly made her decision. If worst came to worst, she could always claim that Rohan was becoming problematic, what with Gondor being a thorn in everyone's side by resisting, and if they held one of Rohan's army commanders hostage, that gave Mordor an advantage.

* * *

"Absolutely out of the question!" Sauron's voice echoed through the dark tower. "Kill the mortal annoyance and be done with it!"

Ushali stood firm in the face of her foster-father's ire. "I caught him, so I get to choose what happens to him. I want to keep him around for a bit and then I will kill him."

Sauron did not even consider the possibility. "No! I want him dead within the hour."

Ushali curtsied and left the room, already devising a plan as she headed toward the dungeons, where the prisoner had last been seen giving the orc-guards all sorts of trouble as they tried to get him into a cell.

* * *

The young warrior sat in the cell, looking bored as she entered. He let out an exasperated breath as she approached. "What do you want?" 

Ushali frowned, nobody talked to her like that! But then she looked at him again, and all of her negative feelings melted away in the face of her sudden love for him.

But she had to keep up her mask. "Your name, for a start, or are mortals to stupid to have names?"

He glared at her. "My name is Eòmer, son of Eòmund. I am the third Marshell of the Riddermark." the glare intensified, "You must be Ushali, the woman who goes around leading raiding parties and deluding herself into thinking that she will ever be a dark lady."

Ushali's eyes blazed. Ooooh, that wretched little… she was trying to save his life here! She controlled herself with an effort, then unlocked the cell and dragged him out.

When they were back in Ushali's rooms, she shoved him down onto the couch and bluntly informed him of the situation. Eomer took it all in with remarkable calm. "Well then, how do you plan to kill me?"

Ushali gritted her teeth together. Heavens, but the man was irritating! "I don't plan to. From the first moment I saw you, you touched something inside of me. For you I will defy Sauron my foster-father. We are going to run away from Mordor and I am going to become good instead of evil."

* * *

They waited for the cover of nightfall, then snuck out of a back passage that Ushali had found when she was a small child. The servants of darkness loved and respected her, and vowed to keep her passing a secret. 

Ushali and Eomer knew that they could not remain in Middle-Earth, so they travelled to the Grey Havens, with Ushali doing only good as they fled. Thanks to her powers, they were able to reach the Grey Havens in only a day.

Once there, Ushali called upon her Uncle Manwë, and her grandfather Iluvatar, asking for passage to Aman. Iluvatar recognised the good she had done, and granted them both passage, though no mortal had been given such a privelage until now.

In Valinor all had heard of the great evils performed by the daughter of Melkor, but forgave her instantly as they stood in awe of her beauty. Ushali and Eomer docked in the harbor and were welcomed into Aman, where their love continued until the end of time.

NOTE:_ At this point, the author of this document was dragged away by concerned relatives for an undetermined amount of time._

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* * *

Just in case anyone was interested, I looked up names that meant something in relation to the classification. _

_Mallika is from the African 'Malaika' which has its roots in the Arabic word 'Malek', meaning -Angel-. _

_Leah is a Hebrew biblical name meaning 'Weary', primarily chosen because of how quickly the fellowship became weary of her company._

_Aralindë is actually derived from the Quenya **ara**, meaning 'dawn', and **lindë** meaning 'song'_

_Azizah is an Arabic name meaning 'Cherished' or 'Precious'_

_Ushali is from the Chinese '**Li**' meaning 'Black', 'Strong' and a multitude of others, and '**Usha**', a Hindu name meaning 'Dawn', but also the name of a mythological demon princess._

_Also, I have a trip to America in the near future, then I only get back not long before my cousin's wedding. I don't know when I will be able to post again, but I will try to make it soon._

_As usual, review and tell me what you think._

_Nathalia_


	6. How To Seduce Your Target

_Disclaimer: Do I look like I own Lord of the Rings? No._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

**

* * *

Survival Guide: Chapter Five**

**How To Seduce Your Target**

In this chapter we will study the various methods used by the Mary-Sue in her methods of Seduction. This will include several terms that will no doubt seem strange, but frequently appear in a Mary-Sue's Vocabulary.

_**

* * *

Case Study Eleven**_

_To entrance your target, stick out your lower lip in a pouting expression and look up at them coyly through long, sooty eyelashes._

Mirkwood had returned to its former name; Greenwood the Great. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Legolas Thranduilion was on his way home, accompanied by Gimli son of Gloin.

Suddenly, they came upon an elf maiden of untold beauty. Both experienced warriors, Legolas and Gimli were instantly on their guard.

The maiden looked up from her spot by the river, her look of alarm melting into one of relief. Both warriors were subjected to the now familiar sinking feeling that came along every time a maiden wanted to meet a 'Hero of the Fellowship of the Ring'.

Surprisingly enough, the maiden did not instantly start gushing over them, but instead looked slightly nervous as she visibly steeled herself before walking up to them.

"I do not mean to inconvenience you, good sirs, but may I beg your aid? My home lies in a village a league that way," the maiden pointed in the opposite direction to where the two had been headed, "And I must return soon, but I fear that there may still be spiders about."

Dwarf and Elf exchanged looks. Their honor bade them help any maiden in distress, but they had traveled for four days through Greenwood without so much as a hint of spider-silk. Besides, if the maiden was so concerned, what was she doing so far away from home in the first place?

The maiden scurried closer to the two, pouting and looking coyly up at them through long, lowered eyelashes, as thick and black as soot.

Gimli and Legolas caved like a house of wet spaghetti. After all, who were they to refuse such a lovely maiden?

Legolas felt himself falling in love, and knew that he would find some way to give her the world if she asked for it.

Anything to make her happy.

For who could deny the urgings of the heart?

_**

* * *

Case Study Twelve**_

_If your target is a childhood friend that you have not seen in several years, this may render him slightly oblivious to your advances. You will therefore have to approach the situation with patience and subtle yet seductive hints._

_NOTE: If the target is exceptionally thick, 'hints' may have to become more obvious 'Anvils'._

Aragorn had just finished stabling his horse when he heard the sound of running feet, and a female voice shouting his name.

He turned to see a beautiful maiden flying toward him, arms outstretched and an overjoyed smile on her lips.

He recognized her as Luithwen, his childhood friend and fellow mortal in Rivendell, and felt his own face stretch into a grin as he caught her in his arms and swung the beautiful girl around.

Luithwen held Aragorn close for a few minutes, basking in his presence. "It is so good to see you again, Aragorn! I was beginning to think that you had found some pretty girl in your travels and forgotten all about me!"

Aragorn smiled as he hugged her back. "Never. No pretty face could ever make me forget you, my dearest friend."

Luithwen quickly tried to mask her annoyance. Men were so dense.

She drew back to look him over and immediately started fussing. "Oh look. You are absolutely filthy from your time on the road. You come with me right now so we can get you cleaned up. I'll come and help you with a bath."

Aragorn smiled at her again. "Thank you Luith. You could be my sister with the way you fuss over me."

Luithwen waited until Aragorn's back was turned before gritting her teeth and clenching her fists in an attempt to stifle a scream of frustration. She wondered if any of the Valar covered dealing with oblivious males. With the amount of worship and prayer that they would receive from Middle-Earth's female population, Luithwen would have thought that the Valier would be falling over each other for the job.

In Aragorn's rooms, Luithwen began to run a bath while Aragorn unpacked, discreetly adding a healthy dose of scented oils.

Seduction tactic or otherwise, One had to admit that Aragorn really did need a bath.

Luithwen happily watched as Aragorn began to disrobe, then gave a mental sigh when he paused and asked her to turn around. How was she going to succeed in her mission to make him forget Arwen and fall in love with her if he insisted on treating her like a sister? She was going to have to bring out the big guns.

"Would you like me to join you in the bath, Aragorn? We could use the opportunity to catch up." _Come on, Aragorn, I know you are not this stupid…_

She closed her eyes in an attempt to bite back the less than complimentary remark when he answered, "No, thank you Luithwen. It would be improper."

_All right, maybe you are. Never mind…_ "Oh, for heaven's sake Aragorn! Do I have to spell it out for you? I am in love with you! I have been since we were children! I've spent years trying to tell you subtly, but you really are so incredibly dense! Arwen and you are not meant to be and everyone is saying that you and I would make an ideal couple, so you might as well accept it!"

_Hopefully the blunt facts got through that thick skull of his…_Luithwen chanced a look to see dawning realization on Aragorn's face. He gestured with one hand, inviting her to join him in the bath. "I have dreamed of this moment for years, Luithwen. I had feared that you saw me as nothing more than a brother, and tried to force myself to treat you as a sister, settling for second best in Arwen. But you are fairer than she, and I have always loved you. Will you marry me after all of this is over, and rule with me as Queen of Gondor?"

Luithwen smiled at Aragorn, a look of serene satisfaction settling over her face as she nodded her acceptance of his proposal.

_Finally! Success!_

_**

* * *

Case Study Thirteen**_

_If you meet your target while fighting, his first sight of you should be with your hair flying loose around you / held back with a few strands framing your face and moving with lethal grace. _

_NOTE: Under no circumstances should you keep direct eye contact for more than a few seconds. No one will take you seriously if you start drooling in the middle of a fight._

Boromir paused for breath as the battle raged around him. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something extraordinary.

He saw a young woman fighting in the battle, and rather well, at that.

Her hair was held back in a long braid, with a few determined strands escaping and framing her face. Her lithe, slender body moved as gracefully as if she was dancing, and her teeth were bared in a somehow attractive snarl of battle-fury.

Suddenly she turned her head and their eyes met for a split second before Boromir managed to tear his attention away just in time to avoid being skewered by an orc. He made a mental note to find the girl after the battle was over and talk to her. She certainly seemed to be worth the effort of knowing.

Boromir managed to get several more glimpses of her during to battle, each more intriguing than the last. He saw her flowing gracefully from one move to the next; saw her throw herself into a cluster of orcs, sword flashing and eyes blazing. Oh, yes, he defiantly wanted to get to know this girl.

After the fighting was over, the speech made and ale broken out, Boromir went searching for the elusive female warrior.

At the centre of his being, Boromir of Gondor was a General, a Fighter. He had never showed interest in marriage because he knew that he could never be happy with any woman less than his equal.

This girl was a fierce warrior, like him, and from what she saw, would not take any nonsense from anyone. She seemed his equal.

A perfect match.

Boromir finally spotted her near a ruined building on the outskirts of Osgiliath, and started to make his way over to her.

He had almost reached her when he was promptly intercepted by his father, Denethor.

_Of all the rotten timing…_

He tried to evade him, but failed. Quickly making a mental note to find her again at the next opportunity, Boromir regretfully turned back to his Father and whatever he wanted concerning his and Faramir's shared dream.

Concluding the discussion with his father and brother in a less than satisfactory manner, Boromir scowled as he made his way to his horse. Faramir should have been the one to go, not him, and Boromir had more reasons to be needed in Gondor.

Not to mention that he didn't even want to think about how long it would be until he could resume his search for the mysterious girl.

Reaching his horse, Boromir suddenly stopped. The girl stood there, apparently waiting for him. Now he could see that she was clad in blue leggings and an olive-green tunic, and that her hair turned out to be as golden as the noontide sun, curling around a beautiful face with a mouth like a small pink bow, high cheekbones and grey eyes that held a faint twinkle of sardonic amusement.

She held out the reins of Boromir's horse, and placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth before pulling away and smiling at him.

Boromir mounted his steed and rode off, hearing her last words carried on the wind. "_Until next we meet."_

Giving an inaudible sigh, he turned toward Imladris, hoping that the journey would not take too long, and that he would return soon.

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Case Study Fourteen**_

_If you cannot fight and meet after the battle, your first meeting should be as he wakes up from being healed, making sure that the first thing he sees is your face watching over him._

Faramir slowly regained consciousness in the Houses of Healing, feeling like an Oliphant had stepped on his head, before letting a group of trolls throw him around like target practice.

The feelings of intense pain and sheer misery, however, were quickly elevated by the sight that met his reluctantly opened eyes.

A healer was leaning over him, a gentle smile on her beautiful face. Her hair was tucked underneath a headscarf, with a few loose strands framing her face. She had sky-blue eyes as gentle as the smile that curved her full mouth. Not surprisingly, the first words out of Faramir's mouth were, 'Are you an angel?'

This startled a silvery laugh out of the healer, and Faramir mentally kicked himself for sounding like an adolescent with his first crush. Love of Manwë, he was a Captain of Gondor! He should be past such idiotic babbling!

Faramir quickly tried to stammer out an apology, but the lady would not hear of it, gently pressing him back down onto the sheets and placing one slender finger gently but firmly over his lips.

Her voice was like the wind through bluebells as she whispered to him, "Hush. Rest now and I will be back later."

Faramir felt as though he were drowning in violets. He slept.

True to her word, the pretty healer was back, this time bearing a bowl of soup and an offer out of the Houses of Healing, provided he not strain himself for a few days and that he made sure to get plenty of rest.

Faramir gratefully accepted, but promised himself that he would make a point of visiting at least once a day in order to see the healer and hopefully get to know her better.

Yes, that would be a definite part of his schedule from now on. Lady Eowyn of Rohan seemed nice enough, but she was too proud and strong-willed for him, and there was something about this healer that drew him to her.

Following that train of thought, Faramir considered the part that he hoped she would play in his life.

He knew that she was gentle and compassionate, her work as a healer proved that. She was poised and beautiful, as was obvious to anyone with eyes to see.

She was common, unfortunately, but with the return of the king, a steward was no longer needed. He could turn in the Rod of the Steward, and fade into the background of court life, quietly living with the lovely woman who had so swiftly captured his heart. Perhaps he could even talk the king into allowing them to be married without a huge ceremony, thus avoiding too much of a scandal.

Ah, well. For now, he would be content with escaping from the Houses of Healing, and see how things went from there.

Faramir made his way back to the Citadel, his mind and heart filled with images of the woman who had brought him back to life.

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NOTE: While there are undoubtedly many more methods that Mary-Sues use for seduction, any further records have been destroyed.**

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A/N: My computer is having a bit of trouble with formating, so please excues the lack of line breaking._

_As always, Hope you liked, and please review._

_Thanks, Nathalia._


	7. Gary Stu

_Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings. Must we go over this every time?_

_Summary: See previous chapters_

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**Gary-Stu**

In this chapter, we will deviate slightly from the Mary-Sue, and explore its counterpart, the Gary-Stu.

The Gary-Stu is the rarely seen, but just as dangerous, masculine version of a Mary-Sue. Due to their small number, there is less information to be found on the Gary-Stu. Nevertheless, the Researcher will do her duty and seek answers with utmost fervor.

Like the Mary-Sue, the Gary-Stu is the embodiment of male perfection. Their appearance, however, is somewhat different. While Mary-Sues tend to be slender or curvaceous, graceful and with beauty to eclipse that of Varda herself, the Gary-Stu has a wider variety of guises.

He will be the tall, mysterious stranger who appears out of nowhere to save the day, or the popular yet quiet hobbit who the main female character has never paid attention to but suddenly falls madly in love with.

He may be the Elven warrior who single-handedly won a fight against a whole legion of Orcs and Goblins, or the Dwarf who was the deciding factor in the Battle of Five Armies.

Unlike Mary-Sues, who cannot abide ugliness, Gary-Stus may sometimes appear disfigured in order to make themselves more prominent. These physical flaws can occasionally make them harder to identify.

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Another similarity to the Mary-Sue is the inevitable tragic past. They will never have the 'Suppressed-By-Their-Station' background, but they frequently appear as the neglected, long-lost or abused extra son or brother of a main character who never existed in canon, or as an Overlooked Canon Character that is just waiting to be exploited.

Other times they will appear as one who has lost everything, or had their family wiped out, and is on a quest for vengeance. They may also appear as a canonical, but nameless and faceless, character, who they think should take over the story, completely disregarding the Quest and Great Battle that is the original focus.

While just as Dangerous as a Mary-Sue, the Gary-Stu is also easier to find and destroy. Ironically, this is in part due to the very principle that they are built upon.

Both Mary-Sue and Gary-Stu usurp the place of a main character, in order to make themselves the main focus of the story.

There are few strong female roles in the work of Tolkien, exceptions being the Valier, Luthien, Galadriel, and Eowyn. Because of this, the Mary-Sue will find the role of 'Strong Main Female Character' largely un-contested, and find it easy to slip into.

The vast majority of the 'Strong Main Characters', however, are male, and frequently already have a love interest, making it far more difficult for the Gary-Stu to find a plausible opening to impose themselves in. Unless writing Slash (same-sex pairings) they will not be able to invite themselves along because the Main Character cannot live without them.

Nor can they be the Glorious Hero/Heroine rushing in to save the day, as that role is probably already taken. A Dashing Hero appearing to rescue several other Dashing Heroes just doesn't have quite the same dazzling effect as a Beautiful Maiden appearing to rescue several Dashing Heroes in a spectacular display of role-reversal.

Another possibility is having the Gary-Stu appear as an Overlooked Canon Character. This is the most plausible route, but also the most difficult, as a Canon-Compliant history must then be invented for the Gary-Stu, while still keeping them perfect enough to maintain Gary-Stu status.

It is an unfortunate fact that if One does not have the writing skills to avoid accidental Mary-Sues/Gary-Stus, One probably does not have the writing skills to invent an acceptable background for their character.

For these reasons, the Gary-Stu most often appears as the Neglected, Abused or Long-Lost relation of a Main Character. Potential Gary-Stu writers should be aware that the main problem with this course of fiction is that Tolkien is very thorough in providing detailed background information on his Main Characters.

For this reason, die-hard fanatics can usually find irrefutable proof in Family Trees or Appendixes that the Gary-Stu is a Canon Impossibility and come up with a logical argument to Destroy him.

At the very least, they will claim that you are a terrible writer and need to get a life, rather than spend your time harassing perfectly good Canon with your pitiful attempts to gain attention.

Despite these facts, or perhaps because of them, the rare but dangerous Gary-Stu regrettably still exists, whether as the result of an over-active imagination, a desire to gain attention from strangers, or an inferiority complex.

A shining ray of hope is always present, however. The plague of the Gary-Stu can be destroyed forever if…

_Researcher's Note: At this point, the account stops, and there is evidence of a large blood-stain. The Researcher can only conclude that the writer of this account was attacked by a Gary-Stu or an offended Gary-Stu supporter before they were able to supply a solution to this terrible plague of Avatars.  
__In memory of this brave author, who strove to restore Justice and Canon Accuracy, the Researcher will continue her Quest, and the next part of the Study, concerning Mary-Sue Do's and Don'ts, will soon be completed._

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__The next chapter really will be up soon, despite the long delay since I last updated this fic. Apologies for that._

_You have spent however long reading this story, so I am sure that you can spare a few more seconds to drop a Review.   
I will see you soon, my Faithful (yes, that was meant to be dramatic)_

_Nathalia_


	8. What To and What Not To Do

_Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

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Survival Guide: Chapter Seven**

**Do's and Don'ts for Mary-Sues**

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**Never underestimate the power of Jealousy.**__** Canon Females will not give up their loves willingly, no matter how perfect you are.**_

While you are perfection incarnate and universally adored and thus have no reason to be jealous of anyone, this is not necessarily true in the reverse. Canon Females will not take lightly to others trying to get at their love and steal them away.

They will not care that you are obviously better for your Lust Object than they are. Even if they don't deserve the affection of your Lust Object, they will refuse to see this fact. Because of their refusal to accept the inevitable, they can get vicious in a fight, and this can have unpleasant results, such as scarring, or loss of others' affection.

While your Lust Object adores you anyway, you will not look anywhere near as attractive if you are messed up from a catfight and have scratches all over your face from where the Canon Female bitch-slapped you.

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Case Study Fifteen**

Cherryblossom Took was famed as the most beautiful Hobbit-lass who ever was or would be. The fact that this title technically belonged to the as-yet unborn Elanor 'the Fair' Gamgee bothered her not a whit, largely because she had her sight firmly set on Elanor's father, Samwise Gamgee.

She was also supremely unconcerned about the uproar such a romance would cause, and the fact that even if Sam were not just as firmly set on Rose Cotton, the difference in station would cause him never to look twice at her. She was universally adored, and perfection incarnate. She had no reason to be jealous just because Sam was ignoring her and spending every spare second mooning after Rosie. It was just a childish phase.

It was also an open secret that Rose Cotton was just as smitten with Sam as he was with her, and hated Cherryblossom with a passion.

Cherryblossom didn't see why, really. She had tried to be nice to Rosie, even while blatantly trying to steal her man.

It was perfectly reasonable, after all. Cherryblossom was obviously much better for Samwise than Rosie was, it was inconceivable that Rosie could feel jealous, especially when she so obviously didn't deserve Sam's love.

Never mind that Cherryblossom knew little about Sam other than that he was handsome and worked as Frodo Baggins's gardener, while Rosie had known him all her life and liked him for at least half that.

It was still obvious that Cherryblossom should have Sam, but Rosie refused to relinquish him to the nobler, kinder Cherryblossom, a selfish act if ever there was one. In fact, Rosie had yelled at her and literally thrown her out of the Green Dragon Inn.

This simply could not be born!

It was the rightful humiliation at Rose Cotton's hands that had lead to Cherryblossom lurking outside the Green Dragon, waiting to ambush Rosie when she got the chance. A good bitch-slap was just what that insufferable Miss Cotton needed.

Her chance came when Rosie stepped outside for a break and a breath of fresh air. Cherryblossom pounced!

The two Hobbit-maids rolled over and over in a tumble of skirts, fists and flashing eyes.

Sadly, Cherryblossom had forgotten one Very Important Thing.

As a close relative to the Thain of Great Smiels, Cherryblossom Took had been raised a proper Hobbit-lass, learning the duties that she would one day perform as mistress of her own home. Duties which certainly didn't include learning how to fight or beat people up.

On the other hand, Rose Cotton worked as a bar-maid, and was therefore used to handling herself when customers got a bit out of hand. She also had the added motivation of the shameless hussy trying to steal her will-someday-be husband, a fact guaranteed to get any woman up in arms, no matter her station or species.

A few minutes later, it was all over.

Rosie stood up and dusted herself off. Sam and Frodo would be leaving soon, so she had just enough time to get back inside and bid them goodnight, along with a smile for Sam. Striding back into the Inn with a new bounce in her step, Rosie calmly ignored the whimpers from behind her.

At the edge of the inn yard, Cherryblossom rolled over with a pitiful moan. Rosie was only seen once or twice during the Lord of the Rings Movies, why did she get to be so good in a catfight?

Oh! Sam was coming out. She ran over to him, "Sam! Frodo! Sam, look! You won't believe what that horrible Rose Cotton did - ."

She was cut off by a scowl from Sam and a confused look from Frodo, who asked, "I'm sorry, miss, do we know you?"

Of course Frodo knew her! They were related, weren't they! She opened her mouth to protest this, but was cut off again, this time by Sam. "Don't you be talking like that about Miss Cotton, now! She's a fine young lass and worth respecting! Come on, Mister Frodo."

Cherryblossom stood there, gaping in confusion. Walking a few feet so that she had the best background for dramatic pacing, Cherryblossom nearly fell over a water trough. Looking down, she barely stifled a scream. Her hair was a mess, her pretty dress was torn beyond concealable repair, and her face was scratched and bloody.

What had that bitch done to her?

Her head snapped up, ready to commit murder. She saw Rosie waving to Sam from the doorway, not a hair out of place and wearing a sunny smile.

Rosie caught sight of Cherryblossom, and gave her a self-satisfied smirk, before going back inside and shutting the door.

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**Be secure in your Superiority. **__**You are a Mary-Sue. There is no one as beautiful or talented or all-around perfect as you are. No Canon Female stands a chance against you.**_

Mary-Sues are the epitome of all that is desirable. Men are rendered helpless by their power, women are constantly at risk of losing the love of their Canon lives, and often also their extended families, by virtue of being replaced or killed off.

For these reasons, Canon Females will wage a futile rearguard action until their last breath, fighting to keep their previous Canon Respective Other.

They will attempt to defeat you in any manner possible, be it attempting to show you up, or keeping a constant guard on their partner. They may also try less subtle attempts, such as drawing attention away or conveniently 'failing' to notice when you are injured.

You are superior, but do not let that lull you into dropping your guard. For example, if you are fighting pirates who are trying to kill you and they cry out for a Lady's Mercy, think first. Nothing has happened in the past two seconds to make them change their mind about killing you.

You have perfectly honed skills to defend yourself, but there is no reason to give them a free shot. Likewise, there is no reason to keep potential rivals around to rub your victory in their faces. Either kill them or keep them locked up far away from anywhere. You have no need to prove anything by keeping your rivals in a position to fight back.

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Case Study Sixteen**

Vanyariel sighed. Her Lust Object was being disturbingly thick headed in his denial that they were meant for each other. Perhaps it was because she Lusted after Faramir of Gondor, and Lady Eowyn kept a sharp vigil with an even sharper sword, refusing to let her near him.

Secure in her superiority, Vanyariel amused herself by watching Eowyn's attempts to keep her away from Faramir. Eowyn could never compete with the perfection that was a Mary-Sue, but it was fun to watch her try.

There was no harm in it, as despite Eowyn's best efforts, Vanyariel was sure that Faramir would come around. Eventually.

With another longing, wistful sigh that made an innocent bystander nearly fall over themselves to inquire what was wrong, Vanyariel reassured herself by mentally reviewing the facts.

She was Naturally Superior to her Canon rivals. Eowyn didn't stand a chance.

There was no one as beautiful, talented and all-around perfect as she was.

Her Lust Object was just being stubborn.

Vanyariel was broken out of her thoughts by the sound of yelling, jolting her back to the present time. Aragorn had been crowned King of Gondor a few months ago, and had been busy hunting down the remains of Sauron's army and allies. Vanyariel had joined a party that was chasing what remained of the Corsairs of Umbar, and was preparing to ambush the pirates. Just wait until Faramir saw her in battle! That would be the end of his resistance, she was sure!

It was only a few more minutes until the Corsairs of Umbar came charging into view, some in ships, some on foot, their ships having already been sunk. Mad with rage and blood-lust, the Corsairs didn't notice the ambush until it was too late.

As a Mary-Sue, Vanyariel had an inbuilt protection that prevented her from becoming in any way messy during battle. Seeing this, many of the Corsairs fell to their knees, crying for a Lady's mercy.

Drawing herself up, preparing to offer a gracious speech, Vanyariel failed to notice a Corsair sneaking up behind her, until he leapt up and stabbed her through the heart. The man must have been gay.

As a Mary-Sue, Vanyariel was of course entitled to a long and drawn-out death scene. Faramir's band (sadly including Eowyn) appeared as re-enforcements, just in time to see her kill the pirate who stabbed her, then fall to the ground. This lead Vanyariel to hope that all was not lost and (as was usual for bad fanfic) the everlasting attention of her true lust could save her life.

Unfortunately for her, Faramir was facing the other way at the time. Even more unfortunately, this gave him a perfect look at Eowyn fighting, in her full glory as a Shield-Maiden of the Riddermark.

Even Death-Scenes cannot take forever, and Vanyariel was forced to watch in disbelief as Faramir completely forgot her existence in favor of Eowyn.

Vanyariel's last thought was that she knew she should have killed that shield-bitch off when she had the chance.

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**When investing in non-Canonical items to assist you in your Quest, make sure that you will be in a position to use them**_

While magical and mythical items are good to have around just in case, you will need to take care in selecting them. Make sure it is relevant and useful. A gold tiara that shines with the light of the sun is no good if you are trying to sneak behind enemy lines in the dead of night.

It is also wise to take precautions.

If you have a sword that makes its bearer impossible to defeat, be sure to specify that getting killed should be counted under 'defeat'. Also add that 'bearer' should be owner. It is annoying to be disarmed and then have your own weapon used against you.

If your item/artifact is some kind of jewelry, wear it as a choker. After all, necklaces with long chains can break, be torn off or slip over your head, and we all know what happened to Isildur when he fell into the river while wearing the ring. It slipped right off his finger.

Modern-day items should also be carefully considered. Make-up is all well and good, and will help you when you have just been crawling through a mine and look horrible. Compact Mirrors are invaluable in this case.

On the other hand, it is far better to let your hair dry naturally and bring something more useful than to bring a hair-dryer into a 'Dark Ages' setting with no electricity.

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Case Study ****Seventeen**

"Are you sure you should be taking those, my Lady?"

Morwen turned to glare at her maid. "That is the tenth time you've asked me that in as many minutes, Iariel! Yes I am sure! I am representing our people in this quest and must look my finest. Now stop arguing with me and fetch them!"

Iariel sighed. There really was no talking with her mistress when she was like this. Looking beautiful was all well and good, and normally she would encourage it, but Lady Morwen would be traveling over mountains, through forests and Valar-knew where else, frequently on foot! There was no way that this would end in anything but disaster.

Sighing yet again, Iariel lifted down the box containing the exquisite shoes. She had done her duty and warned the silly girl, and she certainly couldn't be blamed if her mistress didn't listen to her.

She had told her mistress that Glass Slippers will not help if you are running over rocky terrain where they are likely to break and turn into Glass Splinters, so there was nothing more she could do with that.

Returning to where her mistress was packing, Iariel wondered how many times today she would be sighing. At this rate she would start to sound like some silly princess in a babe's storybook. The girl had taken her magical amulet and was seeing how it looked on various cords and chains.

"Here are your shoes, Lady Morwen. Are you sure you wouldn't like me to put the amulet in a choker for you. The silver would look lovely on some black silk."

Lady Morwen looked at her in absolute shock. "Are you mad, Iariel? No, this absolutely must go on a chain so it can rest enticingly just above my breasts."

Iariel decided to try one last time. "But cords and chains break so easily, my lady. What if someone were to try and choke you with the necklace, or if you fell and it slipped over your head?"

Lady Morwen gave her maid a condescending Look that had always driven Iariel mad. Well, it wasn't like such things hadn't happened before! Look at Isildur! Falls into the river while wearing a ring and next thing you know, it slipped off his finger and he is shot by orcs.

Her mistress was going to get herself killed or seriously injured, and if Lady Morwen refused to listen to her, then all Iariel could do was wait a few weeks for the day that she would be saying "I told you so."

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**While sarcasm has its place and use, be careful who you insult.**__** Not everyone will take it in good humor. Many will take it in very bad humor.**_

There is nothing appealing about someone who has been chopped into pieces but is still alive. At the very best, you will be looked upon with pity. At the worst, you will be scorned as useless.

Sarcasm and a quick wit can earn you looks of admiration, but also has a high probability of annoying someone you shouldn't have, and getting you into trouble.

Getting into trouble often has lasting consequences. For example, it can annoy a Dark Lord, who will realize that he cannot defeat you, and promptly take it out on your loved ones, especially your Lust Object.

They will also make you watch while you wail about your handsome elf/man/hobbit/whatever being mutilated.

Others will take a more direct approach. Always remember that it is very hard to entice or seduce anyone if you have just angered a Dwarve and they have chopped your legs off at the knee.

It will also seriously impair your chances of showing off your fighting or athletic skills.

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Case Study ****Eighteen**

Elerrina's eyes remained firmly fixed on Boromir's behind as he left the room promising to return after the meeting.

From the corner, Gimli son of Gloin gave her a nasty look, fuming over the way she was manipulating the rest of the fellowship like a goldsmith crafting an intricate diadem. He knew elves were little more than an empty head and a pretty face, and no one yet knew the measure of the average Hobbit, but he had really expected more from Gandalf and the Men.

Besides, didn't Aragorn have that pretty elf-lady waiting for him, the one always put Lord Elrond in such a protective mood, and Maia were incompatible with anyone except other Maia.

Elerrina finally noticed the hostility being radiated in her direction by the Dwarve, and returned a foul look of her own. She was a Mary-Sue, and thus perfect and universally adored by her chosen side. Villains didn't like her; naturally, as she was always instrumental in foiling their plots, but the Good Guys all loved her.

Sure, the previously-attached-until-she-came-along females were often jealous and resentful, but they were the exception. She really didn't understand why Gimli was being so difficult and refusing to like her.

Maybe he was gay. There were very few female dwarves, after all, and as a Mary-Sue, Elerrina understood the power of lust and hormones and how they could make one desperate.

Gimli was still glaring at her, though, and she really needed to do something about that before the rest of the Fellowship returned, otherwise Arwen would start accusing her of trying to break up the Fellowship again.

Elerrina sighed and turned to face the Dwarve, reminding herself that she had to look down to see him properly. "I don't know why you hate me so much, Glimli. I only want to help the Fellowship and win Boromir's love."

She hadn't thought it to be possible, but the Dwarve's glare somehow managed to actually increase. "For a start, lass, its _Gimli_. I don't like you because you've done nothing but act like a shameless hussy, and insult all the good and proper ladies here while you are at it. All you are doing is getting in everyone's way. Master Gamgee is a perfectly good cook, and no one is interested in watching you show off. We were best off _before_ you arrived!"

Elerrina was a Mary-Sue and therefore always had a perfect temper. Unfortunately, this was just going too far, and Gimli's uncanny, not to mention very accurate, description of her was enough to make her boiling mad. "Why you uncouth midget! How dare you talk to me like that? I am powerful and beautiful and skilled and can wield any kind of weapon! You just wait! I'll talk to the others right this moment and have you booted from the Fellowship! You are just jealous that I am better than you, not to mention taller, and there is nothing you can do about it!"

Elerrina turned on her heel to stalk off in a huff, but forgot one Very Important Thing. When people start off on a monologue, they tend to lose their head and something always happens to throw them off their high horse. In this case, Gimli proved that there was, in fact, something he could do about her perfection and height, and promptly swung his axe at her legs.

Losing her balance as well as a good portion of her height, Elerrina fell over with a less-than-becoming shriek. This was not the best of ideas, as it brought half of Imladris running to see who was being murdered.

Treated to a first-hand view of Elerrina lying on the floor in a decidedly un-attractive state and Gimli doubled over holding his ears, the spectators decided that there was a terrible and violent intruder running around, and immediately set off to deal with the threat.

With her looks irrevocably marred, and no longer the center of attention, Elerrina's Mary-Sue Charms began to fail, particularly the ones that allowed her to intrude upon Canon in the first place.

It should be noted that the elf-maiden who so had appeared out of nowhere, had disappeared just as mysteriously. She quickly faded out of the minds of those she had bewitched, and it cannot be denied that Gimli, son of Gloin, swiftly rose in the esteem of many ellith, despite being a Dwarve.

Even Mary-Sues can occasionally be used for something good.

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**When meeting your Lust Object in a hostile situation**_**_, do not squee loudly.  
__No amount of anguished regret on their part will help is you have been killed by a paranoid or trigger-happy hero before you have a chance to explain things._**

When encountering your Lust Object, it is perfectly acceptable, and certainly expected to rejoice.

When in a dangerous situation, however, it is best to rejoice quietly. Your Lust Object is probably still wound tightly from the battle, and while it is nothing that a good naked full-body massage won't cure, it is in nobody's best interest to startle them.

While you and your Lust Object are soul-mates and destined to be together for all eternity, the only true way to return from the Halls of Mandos is to be sent back by Lord Namo of the Valar, and unlike the rest of the world, the Lords and especially Queens of the Valar are notoriously difficult to persuade, no matter how much you try to explain that it is destiny that you and your Lust Object be reunited.

Mary-Sues can be sent back, usually among mutters of 'I can't take it anymore', probably referring to the Mary-Sue's beauty and Valier's subsequent jealousy, but not always.  
Excessive talking about how you simply _must _return will result in threats of the Void, probably so that your Purity and Goodness and Gentle Spirit can redeem Morgoth.

Either way, a loud squee will get you nothing but a messy death, a Canon Female who will have taken advantage of your Lust Object's grief while you are away, and far more trouble than it is worth.

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Case Study Nineteen**

Laerrielana peered through the bushes at the handsome elf as he fought for his life.

Ambushed by orcs while returning home, after miraculously surviving the Battle of Helms Deep, Haldir of Lothlorien was beginning to tire. Systematically wearing down the number of orcs, Haldir had winnowed the ranks down to two orcs when he heard a sharp rustle in the bushes.

Ducking a swipe from an orc blade, he was glad that he still had one arrow left in his quiver. Concentrating on his current opponents, he pretended not to notice. He would have to be quick, and it would do no good to warn his opponent beforehand.

Laerrielana barely stopped herself from swooning as she watched Haldir fight, centuries, if not millennia, of training brought to play. As the last of the orcs fell, she failed to restrain a high-pitched '_squee'_ of Lust Object Inspired delight.

Brains are rarely a Mary-Sue's strong point; otherwise she would have known not to make so much noise. As it was, her delight quickly turned to horror when her Lust Object turned, and in one smooth motion, fired the last of his arrows with deadly accuracy. Laerrielana's eyes widened in dawning realization as the arrow flew closer.

Unfortunately, (or fortunately, depending on your stance) no amount of realization or Mary-Sue reflexes could have saved her now. Laerrielana had time for one despairing thought before the arrow buried itself in her heart. _But we were destined to be together. My poor Haldir, now he must fade from grief…_

Warily, Haldir approached the bushes, still on his guard in the (unlikely) event that he had missed. Parting the bushes, his eyes fell on a beautiful young woman. Haldir's eyes widened in horror. How could he have thought that she was an orc?

Haldir felt a sharp stab of guilt at his actions. All life was precious, and elves would mourn even the death of a stranger. He firmly reminded himself that he had been in a battle situation, and the woman had certainly _sounded_ like an orc's battle cry.

Besides, it would not be the first time that the Enemy had used such underhand tactics, and the Lady Galadriel herself was proof that woman could be just as dangerous as men when in battle, and even more-so when not in open combat, but the more subtle arts where they held rule.

Haldir's own mother had been a good ally in battle, but even more dangerous at home, where she could have them all on a steady diet of boiled cabbage and liver until she had her way.

Haldir sighed and turned away. He needed to return to Lothlorien and make his report. He did not look forward to telling the Lord and Lady of the woman's death, but it could not be helped. Haldir continued on his way, leaving the body of Laerrielana the Mary-Sue lying on the ground, not giving her a second thought.

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A/N: So, Mary-Sue dos and don'ts. There were two other rules that I thought of, but couldn't think up case studies for._

_**A) **There may be instances where you are forced to change into some kind of anima__ or alternate identity to rescue your Lust Object or save the day. If this happens, be sure to specify what gender. There is nothing more humiliating than turning into someone of the opposite sex and your Lust Object will find it a Turn-Off._

_**B) **If you are forced to use underhand means in your Quest to win the Lust Object, never admit to it.__ Chances are, your Lust Object will over hear and their opinion of you will diminish._

_If anyone comes up with ideas for those two rules, let me know!_

_Anyway, the usual: Take five seconds to leave a review and tell me what you think. Suggest a few things that you would like to see._

_Thanks,  
__Nat._


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